


Resolutions

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Challenge Response, Drama, Episode Related, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-05-27
Updated: 2000-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-11 03:17:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11140017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Victoria looks for revenge.This story is a sequel toPromises Made, Promises Kept.





	Resolutions

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

 

More Promises

 

Title:                  
Resolutions

Sequel to:        Promises Made, Promises Broken 

Author:             Lea Barrett 

Rating:             PG (some mild language and violence) 

Pairings:          None 

Spoilers:         Victoria's Secret 

Disclaimer:     If you know who they are, they belong to Alliance and Paul Haggis. 

All errors are mine. Feedback welcome.  Comments can be sent to 

 

 

 

Resolutions

Part 1

The alarm clock sounded like a clanging bell. Ray Vecchio nearly leaped from his bed at the noise. He slapped blindly at the top of the offending object several times before hitting the snooze button. Falling back, he worked at getting control of his breathing and listening to his pounding heart. 

He stared at the ceiling for five minutes knowing the sixth minute would mean another jolt from the clock. He flicked off the alarm and sat up. His mind shifted unmercifully back to the day before. It was his first day back to work after the fiasco in Corning, New York. Lieutenant Welsh took a long look at him, assessed the bandage decorating his hand, the white face and gray circles around his eyes and sent him home without a lecture. Ray counted himself lucky. Today the lecture would come and would probably involve too many loud noises. He wondered if he was still sick and smiled to himself wryly. No, he was not sick enough to miss another day of work. 

A knock on his wall got him moving. He knocked back so his mother would know he heard her. Then he put on a robe and ambled into her bedroom. She was propped up with her sprained ankle elevated by several pillows. 

"I'm so sorry, Raymundo, but I can not get up to make coffee for you this morning. Are you feeling better? Should you stay home and let me look after you?" 

"No, ma, I'm going to work. Besides with that ankle you need to take care of yourself. Maria'll be here all day to help you." 

"I wish you'd stay home. You still don't look well." 

"It was just a little flu. Two days in bed in New York, one day here, it's enough. Besides, I know you just like having me around to keep order while you're laid up." She frowned, looking offended and a little scary with her hair standing out in too many directions. She adjusted her flannel nightgown. 

"That's not true. I just want to care for you, caro. It's what mothers do." He smiled a little, feeling bad about teasing her. 

"Sorry, Ma, but I have to go in. And I'd really like it if you let Maria get things for you. The doctor said to stay off that ankle." 

"A whole week, he said. I can't stay in bed for a week." 

"Sure, you can. Pretend you're a princess. We're all here to serve you." Ray bent down and kissed her cheek. After making certain she didn't need anything, he found his way to the bathroom to shower. 

He dressed in black jeans with a flamboyant black and red silk shirt before stopping in to kiss his mother good-bye. Ray went downstairs and poured a cup of coffee to go. Once safely inside his 1971 Buick Riviera, he took a freeing breath he didn't realize he was holding. 

Driving to work brought back the ride to the airport in the rental car. His best friend, Constable Benton Fraser, sat beside him, driving for a change, since Ray was still sick. Benny followed all of the traffic laws and politely inquired after Ray's health. Anyone else would think he was being conscientious in his driving especially if they knew how rarely he drove. But, Ray knew better. Fraser was angry and probably disappointed in him and Ray had to wrestle himself to the ground to keep from getting angry back. 

The flight home droned with the same polite silence. Their arrival at the airport, the taxi ride to Ray's house (with continuing service to Fraser's apartment) contained more of the same. 

Benny called the next day to check on his health, to see if he or his mother required anything and since that call, Ray had not heard from him. He wondered how to speak to him now. How to take back his actions. 

When Ray hired a private investigator to find Victoria Metcalf, he had one goal. He had promised to kill her if Benny got hurt and he was going to keep that promise. His friend had been hurt in so many ways by her and because of her. He rationalized his murder plot with the knowledge that she was a fugitive, with the certainty that she would continue to commit illegal acts, with the belief he was protecting and defending his best friend. And not just defending him, but avenging him for all the pain she brought. 

When she was found in that small glass community in upstate New York, he did not hesitate. Armed with a weapon for himself and a weapon to plant on her dead body, he rushed to keep his promise. Despite all the oddly placed obstacles, like torrential rain and a flooded hotel room, he persevered until he met her face to face. 

Unfortunately or perhaps not so unfortunately, when the moment came he discovered something about himself. He was not a murderer. His highly developed police code or his Catholic morality or his DNA stopped him from killing her. Then she managed to exploit his anger and embarrassment by escaping. Truthfully, he couldn't actually blame her for that. He was careless and unprepared and she escaped his arrest as easily as a three-year old escapes a stroller. 

That night, Fraser showed up in his hotel room. He came to tell him that Ray's mother had fallen and injured herself. And Ray, sick and weak, feeling guilty and grateful, confessed everything. 

"That's right, Benny, I came here to murder your old girlfriend because she broke your heart." Okay, he didn't say it like that but it amounted to the same thing. 

Now, Benny was barely speaking to him and Ray did not know how to change the past. Somehow apologizing didn't seem enough. He decided not to pick his friend up and drive him to work as he normally would. At this point, Benny would probably just resent the gesture. 

Part 2

Ray walked to his desk, glancing at his co-workers, wondering if they suspected him. Yesterday, he was still too sick to think of anything but collapsing. Today he could almost see them processing his guilt. He slid into his chair and pulled a file from the top. A thump on his desk made him look up. Elaine Besbriss, the station's civilian aide had placed a full coffee cup in front of him and now stood above him with her arms folded. 

"What's this for?" He asked suspiciously. 

"I'm not sure. I think I'm actually feeling sorry for you. You were awfully pathetic yesterday." 

"That's nice." He responded, sarcastically. 

"Huey and Louie solved your home invasion case." She taunted. 

"Well, I'm glad to hear that, Elaine. It needed to be solved. Anything else you'd like to share before you do actual work?" 

"The lieutenant is very happy with them. Not so much with you." She walked away, smiling to herself. Teasing Ray was one of her favorite hobbies. 

Lieutenant Welsh looked out his window and tapped on the glass. When Ray looked up he waved him in. That's different, Ray thought. Why didn't he come out here and bellow like usual? 

Once inside the lieutenant's office, he was told to shut the door. Then he was told to sit down. Ray might have argued with that since he preferred to take "dressing downs" standing up but he still wasn't feeling too well and Welsh seemed serious. 

"Would you care to tell me where you went on your sudden vacation, Vecchio? The same vacation that your family knew nothing about, that even the Mountie knew nothing about? Would you care to enlighten me on your whereabouts?" 

"New York, Sir." 

"New York, New York, as in Broadway, bright lights and police corruption?" 

"No, no, Sir. A small town in upstate. Corning, Sir." 

"You had a sudden desire to tour the glass museum, is that it?" 

"No, Sir." 

"Then, what?" 

"I was following up a lead on Victoria Metcalf." 

"The broad who framed you and Big Red?" 

"That's right, Sir. I had a lead that she was in Corning, so I went there." 

"Did this little detective side trip net an arrest, Detective?" 

"No, Sir. She escaped my custody." 

"That's probably just as well since you _have no authority in New York_!" Welsh yelled. 

The remainder of the conversation was a lot of yelling, several threats and a final warning that he should never again go outside his jurisdiction on any type of personal crusade unless Ray intended to turn his badge into a paperweight. 

Ray vacated the office feeling his butt was smaller and his hearing may need to be checked. Standing too near the door, he found Detectives Jack Huey and Louis Gardino snickering. Ray ignored them. He had dumped a bad case when he left, they had solved it. He deserved to take some of their gloating. 

Returning to his desk, he began going through his case files and returning phone calls. A few hours later, Elaine appeared at his desk again. This time, she dumped a styrofoam container filled with vegetable beef soup and a turkey sub on the desk. She did not stay to trade insults. Ray yelled a surprised thank you at her and opened the container. Still slightly nauseous, he managed to eat the soup but only a few bites of the sandwich. He wrapped the rest and put it to the side of his desk. 

Halfway through the afternoon, Ray's mind stopped sending hints to distract him with thoughts of Benny and how to fix things between them. Instead his mind became an assault weapon, barraging him with nothing but thoughts of Benny and how to fix things. 

Ray picked up the notes he had been taking, wrote down three addresses of witnesses to see and bailed from his desk. 

One witness lived between the 27th Precinct and the Canadian Consulate. She was a prostitute who worked near the theatre district. Ray knew her and thought she may have witnessed a recent mugging there. The mugging had been needlessly violent and the victim was unable to provide any description of the person or persons who attacked him. 

A fine, spring afternoon greeted him, complete with a light breeze and blue skies. He climbed into his car and tried to enjoy the weather. 

Ray arrived at her apartment in time to see her walk by his car. He jumped out and called to her. At first she was friendly and flirting like any good prostitute. When she saw his badge and remembered her arrest a year earlier, she became belligerent. It took nearly forty-five minutes to find out that she saw nothing that night because she was attending a bachelor party. She had witnesses. She could prove she was not soliciting. Ray forced his business card into her hand. 

"Call me if you or your pals remember anything." 

Sliding back inside the Riv, Ray closed his eyes for a minute. His head was starting to ache again and he wondered if a person can relapse with the flu. Instead of dwelling on that, he called home on his cell phone to check on his mother. His sister, Maria answered. 

"She's bored, but she's fine. You know Ma. I checked on her an hour ago and she was sleeping." 

"Okay, I should be home around six. You need anything at the store?" 

"No. I made Tony go this morning." 

"Your husband went to the grocery store?" Ray asked, genuinely surprised, not just teasing her. She took it as teasing. 

"He's not completely useless, Ray." 

"Yea, okay. I'll see ya later." 

He hung up and forced himself to drive to the consulate. He wanted to see Benny. He wanted to straighten things out. But, he was no closer to figuring out how to do that. And the rejection and anger he had seen in his friend's eyes in New York was something he was not anxious to see again. 

Pulling up in front of the building, Ray was disappointed to see Fraser was not on sentry duty. He actually hated that his friend had to pretend to be a big, red statue in order to preserve Canada's dignity but, today, it would have been nice to have the reprieve. 

He walked up the front steps and stepped into Canada feeling for the first time that he was not on his native soil. Looking up as his eyes adjusted to the change in light, he found Inspector Margaret Thatcher standing a few feet away. She closed the manila folder in her hands as if she was guarding national secrets and frowned. 

"Detective Vecchio." She said with all the warmth of a python. 

"Inspector Thatcher." He mimicked her, just for the fun of annoying her. 

"Can I help you with something?" She asked. 

"Probably not. I'm looking for Fraser. You got him getting your groceries or somethin'?" 

"No, and I don't appreciate your tone." 

"That makes us even. I don't appreciate anything about you. But, I'm still lookin' for Fraser so is he in his office or locked in a closet or what?" She gave her best sigh of irritation before answering. 

"Apparently he contracted the flu that you had. He is taking sick leave today." 

Meg watched in stunned silence as the color drained from Ray's face. She reached out automatically thinking he was certain to fall. He jerked back from her touch and moved like a robot towards the Consulate doors. 

Part 3

Ben Fraser woke up that morning feeling as if his body gained a hundred pounds during the night. His chest felt heavy. His arms and legs felt like lead. He lied in bed for what his grandmother would call a sinfully long time. Dawn had yet to beckon and he could not force himself up. 

When his deaf wolf licked his hand and whined, Fraser chastised himself. 

"When you are up first, I have clearly languished too long." He said aloud. 

He stretched and scratched the wolf's ears. Instead of his winter red longjohns, he wore a white t-shirt and boxer shorts. He could feel summer approaching. While spring was warm for him, summer was nearly unbearable. 

His short, regulation length brown hair was tousled. His wide, muscular body was stiff. He chose to ignore both and swung his legs over the edge of his narrow bed. Diefenbaker whined again. 

"Yes, I'm coming." He said as he pulled on his RCMP sweat pants, followed by a pair of sneakers. 

Both the man and the wolf took a short walk down the litter cluttered street in front of the apartment building. Once the wolf had taken care of his needs, they returned to Ben's apartment. 

Ben left Diefenbaker alone while he padded down the hall to use the communal shower. The hot water felt good but he couldn't quite enjoy the feeling. Stepping out, he stopped to look in the mirror above the sink. His dark hair clung to his scalp. His blue eyes were faded to gray. Absently he touched the scar left behind by a dead otter so many years before. 

He had been helpless that day to stop the assault. He felt the same helplessness now. He did not want to lose Ray's friendship, his partnership with him. But, how could he maintain their connection when Ray exercised ego and selfishness and called it loyalty? 

Once his body was clean, his mind seemed to clear more readily and his muscles lost some of the weight they carried. Sitting down at the kitchen table, once again in his sweats, he sipped a cup of coffee and thought back to the unexpected trip to New York. 

As he searched for Ray after Mrs. Vecchio's accident, Ben's anxiety had grown readily. Ray had acted uncharacteristically. He had lied. He had crept away like a criminal. These were not the actions of the Ray Vecchio that Ben thought of as his best friend. 

Tracing Ray's credit card had proved simple enough. Discovering his destination had left Ben confused and more worried. He followed his friend and found him in a hotel room suffering from a serious case of influenza. The worry and confusion increased dramatically. Looking back, Ben supposed he was ripe for a confrontation. 

Seeming to read his thoughts, Dief growled and nudged his leg. 

"Yes, I know you think I'm being harsh, but he could have been killed. He could be in jail right now for murder. He could have lost his career, his reputation. The very fact that he attempted to find and kill her frightens me. I thought I knew him, Dief." The wolf whined. "Of course, I know that he's impulsive, but to try something like that and then to rationalize it as if it were a pretty gift. I can't accept that. I won't." The wolf settled beneath the table with his head on his paws. 

Ben considered his position. What if Ray never accepted that he was acting on his own ego? Could Ben really end their friendship? Could he live in exile in this cement cage of insanity without Ray? He meant it when he said it, but could he actually live the words? 

Ben glanced at the clock on the stove. If Ray were well and going to work, he would arrive in half an hour. He stood, took a breath to release some of the tension in his chest and opened the closet door. He was not scheduled for sentry duty so he chose his brown uniform. Despite the fact this particular uniform annoyed Inspector Thatcher, he felt strongly about wearing it. 

When Diefenbaker trotted to the front door and growled, Ben looked up hopefully. Perhaps Ray was feeling better and arrived early to...to what? Apologize? He didn't want an apology. Argue? To what end? Surely, Ray knew him well enough to know he would not compromise his position. To pretend all was well? Ray might make an attempt in that direction and Ben had to steel himself to the possibility. 

In the next second, all considerations were swept aside. Victoria Metcalf pushed open the front door aiming her small, short barrelled weapon towards the wolf. Dief stood still, hair bristling, growling low in his throat. Ben froze. For one hysterical moment he thought the morning must have been a twisted dream suddenly thrusting into a nightmare. In the next moment, he felt the bullet still lodged in his back tremor. Even as he knew the sensation was solely in his mind, he could not shake the rumble through his spine. 

"Call him off or I'll shoot him, Ben. You know I will." In deference to the deaf wolf's handicap, Ben had to approach him and gain his attention. Dief was nearly unreachable in his fury against this woman who shot him once before. The Mountie finally gained the wolf's attention and managed to maneuver him to the half bath. He shut him inside. 

Turning slowly, he found his old lover watching him with flat eyes and a grim expression. She ordered him to sit down. He remained still, refusing to allow her to direct him. With Dief safe for the moment, he decided the gun was not threat enough to gain his obedience. 

Victoria shook her head sadly. Her long curls had been sheared to chin length and they bobbed with the motion. As Ben watched her, he noted the other changes. She was thinner. Her face looked drawn and tired. Tiny lines etched the skin around her eyes and mouth. And her brown eyes were crystal blue. 

"Contacts?" He asked. She frowned at him. 

"After everything that's happened, that's your first question?" The sound of her voice quickened his thudding heart. That voice saved him many years ago as it whispered life in the midst of a frozen death. How many nights since had he longed for that voice to rock him gently as he lay in his bed? 

"Apparently." He answered, surprised at himself. 

"Yes, contacts. I've had to hide more efficiently since that idiot friend of yours decided to murder me." 

"Why are you here, Victoria?" Surprised again, he realized he was annoyed to see her. After anticipating this moment for months, wondering if he would want her, if he would need to follow her, he found himself irritated instead. 

"Haven't you been waiting for me?" She asked sarcastically. 

"No." The cruelty in that word sounded foreign from his lips. Victoria frowned as she pushed a lock of hair from her cheek. 

"Did you know he was coming after me?" He dismissed that question to ask his own. 

"Why did you come here?" 

"To kill you, I think." 

Part 4

"You're not certain?" Ben asked remembering Jolly, her bank robbing partner, slumped in the front seat of a car by the zoo. 

"I was...until a moment ago." With no response to that, Ben turned away and walked into the kitchen. She watched him as he took a tin pot from the dish drainer and filled it with water. He turned the heat on beneath it, then opened a cupboard and removed two cups. He took two tea bags from a box near the stove and dropped them into the cups. For a moment he stared into the pan of water and she thought he might just watch it until it boiled. Instead he turned around, leaning against the windowsill and folding his arms across his chest. 

"Do you still have a lot of sick time accumulated?" She asked. 

"No." He answered, flashing back to the long weeks in the hospital. 

"Then your check will be short." She said as she tossed a cell phone across the room. He caught it with one hand. Looking up at her, then back at the phone, he flipped open the lid. Dialing the Consulate took more concentration than usual. The message he left for Inspector Thatcher sounded strange to him. He wondered if she would hear the oddness in his voice. 

"You know I'm perfectly capable of doing it." Victoria said as he set the phone on the counter beside him. "I shot Jolly when he was only two feet away, sitting so near to me I could smell his breath." 

"I know you can kill, Victoria. Can you kill me?" She chuckled as she balled up a fist full of her own hair. 

"I don't know. Maybe not. Part of me really wants to. I hate this nagging feeling that someday we'll come together as if the past was nothing. Like some ridiculous fairy tale." She choked out a bitter laugh. "That's us, you know, a fractured fairy tale. The duty bound Mountie versus the little girl lost. It's all so pathetic." 

"Yes." He answered. If she heard him, she ignored his agreement. 

"I could wound you, though. I could destroy your precious Mountie career with one well placed bullet and annihilate your life the way you shredded mine." Her eyes hardened. "Maybe that is the final answer. Let Vecchio find you crippled and knowing I wouldn't have come back if he hadn't come looking. I'm not a selfless person, Ben, I wouldn't want you if you weren't whole. It may be the perfect solution." 

The water boiled. Ben lifted the pan and filled both cups, swallowing hard and hoping his hands remained steady. He heard Diefenbaker growl from the bathroom. Setting the mugs of tea on the kitchen table, he settled into a chair. 

"Perhaps you should come and sit down so that we might talk about this." 

"You really don't think I can do it, do you?" She asked, remaining near the door. 

"I don't know what you're capable of. I never did. You have surprised me with every meeting we've ever had." 

"He has to stop looking." Her voice changed from hard to desperate. "No one else has come close to finding me, Ben. Just him. I don't think anyone else really cares." 

"As long as you have not committed any new crimes, then you're correct. No one is concerned for Jolly, the diamonds were recovered, Ray and I were cleared. The warrant exists but there's no active pursuit of you." 

"You don't want to see me in prison do you, Ben? You don't want to see me put away again, do you?" He thought seriously about her question as he blew in his cup. Taking a look out of the kitchen window he was surprised to see snow flakes. He blinked and the clear spring day returned. 

"No. I don't like to think of you in prison." 

"Your friend doesn't share your opinion." She walked forward carefully so she was now leaning on the threshold between the kitchen and bedroom. Her arm was sagging slightly from holding the gun. 

"Please sit down, Victoria." She searched his blue eyes, finding them gray and shrouded. She stood up straight with sudden fury. 

"You're expecting him. You're trying to distract me." She accused. "Damn you! You'd just betray me again, wouldn't you? No regrets this time, I'll bet." 

"I'm not expecting any..." 

"Get up!" 

"Victoria." 

"Get up, I won't tell you again." Ben set his cup down and stood slowly. The manic look in her eyes was all he needed to know things were spiraling downward. If she shot him, would she kill Dief too, he wondered. Speaking slowly, fighting to keep the quiver from his voice, he said, 

"I am not expecting Ray or anyone else. He sometimes picks me up for work but I am not expecting him this morning. He's been sick for several days." 

"I don't believe you. Turn around." 

"Victoria." 

"I mean it. Turn around and put your hands behind your back." 

"You don't have to do this. As I've said no one is loo..." 

"I'll shoot you right now. I swear to God, Ben." 

All right, he reasoned. If she intended on restraining him, then she wasn't going to shoot him. At least not yet. With resignation he turned. Diefenbaker howled mournfully from the bathroom. He gave her his arms and soon found the right one encircled by a handcuff. His left arm remained free. Confused but forcing neutrality into his features, he turned back to face her as she instructed. 

Victoria had stepped back from him. She carefully maintained her distance. She radiated a terrible coldness he could feel even standing a few feet away. 

"Go to the closet, Ben." He blinked. 

"Pardon?" 

"I want you to go stand in the closet." 

"I am not going to go stand in the closet." He said, not certain why this idea bothered him so much. 

"Fine, then just move that way a bit." She waved the gun to the left and he moved out of the kitchen to stand next to his bed. She kept her space between them as she walked past and aimed at the bathroom door, her finger gently fingering the trigger. 

He lunged towards her in a panic, yelling at her but managing only a few steps before she swung back and he stopped in place. 

"Closet." She said. He nodded, numbness spreading through his body as he surrendered to her. 

Once he reached the closet door, he turned back to face her, vaguely aware of the single handcuff dangling from his wrist. He felt the hard lines of his face grow harder at the strange, happy look in her eyes. She was actually gloating over her control. She waved the gun indicating that he sweep the hanging clothes to one side. It felt strange to understand her non-verbal commands, as if that meant some sort of intimacy remained. 

"Uh, no, don't turn around." She said. His erect posture grew taller despite his inner despair. She was going to shoot him and leave him inside this closet. He held his breath wondering if he would feel this bullet as much as he felt Ray's. He wished he could look behind him, hoping that if he did, he would see his father there. But, if his father had made a ghostly entrance, he was staying silent and hidden. 

Ben didn't see the small black box as she removed it from her pocket. He heard her soft approach and wondered if she would come close enough. Another few steps and he might be able to grab her. He would likely get shot, but perhaps not seriously. At least it was a greater chance than when she stood several feet away. 

Diefenbaker barked and slammed into the bathroom door with his weight. He howled and Ben considered that he might sense the coming death. A horrible sadness overwhelmed him so when Victoria reached up from behind he jerked in surprise. A flash of light filled his eyes as sudden pain coursed through his neck, then ran like rushing water down his limbs. He fell forward taking a hard knock to the forehead before his dark fear crashed around him. 

Slightly in shock he realized Victoria was standing above him cursing. She reached down taking his arm and dragging him to his feet. Since her fumbling with his weight was throwing far too much pressure to his shaking legs, he assisted and was soon half standing. Still unsteady and stumbling, she had to propel forward while trying to keep him balanced. 

Soon they both stood inside the small clothes closet. Dazed and unclear as to what happened, Ben soon found himself hugging the metal pole from which his clothes hung. 

At six feet, Ben was nearly a foot taller than his clothes rack. He had to twist his head to one side to keep from banging it against the upper shelf. Combining that contortion with keeping his balance was proving a difficult chore. His forehead was actively bleeding which added a mild dizziness. And if he really wanted to complain, he was sweating rather heavily and he felt thirsty. 

Part 5

Once Ray settled inside his car, he stopped moving. He looked at himself in the rearview mirror and reminded himself to breathe. 

There was no reason to think Victoria was back or Fraser was with her. Benny spent two days with him while his fever and sweats made him a walking advertisement for communicable disease. The Mountie never shied away from him. In fact, he seemed oblivious to the possibility of contracting Ray's illness. It was perfectly reasonable to think that Benny had the flu. 

He kept all of this to himself. The only disturbance Victoria read in his eyes was pain. 

"I'm sorry, Ben. Well, not that sorry. You shouldn't have let him come looking." 

She left him alone for a moment. He could hear drawers opening in the kitchen. When she returned, she carried a dishtowel and damp rag. These and several others were a gift from Francesca Vecchio. Evidently, Ray's sister did not think his apartment was homey enough. Victoria folded the white towel with narrow red stripes into a tight rectangle. She pressed firmly against his forehead ignoring the wince that brought. He shifted uncomfortably. 

"Relax, the taser was suppose to make you, well, less difficult. I didn't mean for you to hit your head." Ben wanted to ask her if she meant any of the things she caused but somehow coherent thought seemed to escape him. She dabbed the blood from his forehead and cheek. 

Also, Benton Fraser never lied. If he told the Inspector he was sick, then he was sick. He was not hold up in his apartment "making whoopie" with Victoria Metcalf. He wasn't. 

The fact that Ray had threatened Victoria a few days before was just causing his imagination to go crazy. He saw her. It brought back all of the old memories. Benny was not with her. 

But, Ray had threatened her. Ray had planned her murder. He may not have been able to actually pull the trigger but she was probably annoyed. She might be more than annoyed. And he had seen her insanity. 

Okay, he reasoned, even if Benny was just sick, his best friend had taken care of him, he could return the favor. Even if Fraser was still angry, he could check on him, make sure he had orange juice and pain relievers. It made sense to be racing to his apartment, breaking every traffic law. It made sense that his heart was trapped somewhere near his throat. 

Parking in front of Fraser's apartment building, Ray looked up towards the window. Unless something was hanging from the window, he knew he would not be able to see anything. Still, he looked, imagining a shadow with long, dark hair grinning down at him. 

He shook his head and ran up the stairs to Benny's apartment wishing as always that his friend had chosen an apartment with a working elevator. An apartment without rats and homeless people living in the hall would be nice also but he hated to sound picky. 

Reaching Benny's floor, he heard a long, sad noise. He recognized a howling wolf when he heard one. Dief barked, whined and cocked his head but Ray had never heard him howl like a regular wolf. In his mind he saw the animal silhouetted against the moon with his snout pointed towards the sky. He shivered at that. 

Weapon drawn, adrenaline on full-throttle, Ray knocked lightly on Benny's door. No response came from within. Dief continued making his sorry plea so Ray knocked harder. Each time, standing to the side of the door itself. Again, the door remained closed and no answering voice could be heard above the wolf. 

Carefully, Ray reached for the door handle. Keeping as much of his body shielded as possible he pushed open the door and jumped back. Dief sounded louder but was not barking or growling and he remained somewhat muffled. The lack of aggression in the sounds coming from Fraser's companion gave Ray enough security to step into the apartment. 

No brown haired monsters leaped from the shadows. In fact, the apartment appeared empty. 

"Oh, God." He murmured, fearing his own nightmare. Had she come back? Had Benny gone with her this time? Had she kidnapped him? 

His cop training jumped into overdrive while he surveyed the room. There was nothing broken. All of Benny's things appeared to be in their place. The Mountie owned little so inventorying took only a moment. The bed was unmade. There were two coffee cups sitting on the kitchen table and a metal pan on the stove. No sign of a struggle. 

He felt like he was moving through a kaleidoscope as he walked through the empty space that seemed so dark and dismal without his friend. Diefenbaker scratched and barked at the bathroom door. Ray let him out and drifted slowly into a nearby kitchen chair. The wolf jumped on him, licking and nuzzling his hand and complaining with pointed whines. Ray set his gun on the table and automatically ran his hands through the soft fur comforting both of them. 

He was surprised when the wolf sniffed, then abandoned him. Dief moved around the room with his tail raised. He circled the kitchen snuffling the ground furiously and growling. He stopped at the closet and leaped against the door. No longer whining or growling, the wolf was barking and jumping excitedly. 

Ray didn't have the opportunity to open the door before the Mountie tumbled out, bringing the clothes bar and most of his wardrobe with him. Ben landed on his back with a thud and was soon covered in one red uniform, two pairs of jeans and a red flannel shirt. The rest of his clothes scattered around in a jumble. Dief had leaped back and was sniffing through the clothes. Ray stood over him in surprise for a couple of heartbeats before he dug his friend out. 

Part 6

Tape covered Ben's mouth and his hands were still handcuffed. Thinking fast was best, Ray ripped the tape off while Ben jerked back in surprise. Seeing that Ben was trying to stand, Ray put his arms under the Mountie and helped him to his feet. Both men staggered to the bed where Ben sat down heavily on the edge. Ray didn't realize he had been repeating himself for several moments until Ben lifted his bound hands to give the universal symbol for "stop". 

"Please, Ray, I'll explain, I just need a moment." Diefenbaker growled at the Mountie and lay down at his feet. Ray looked at the wolf, curiously. 

"Did he just growl at you?" 

"He's upset that I locked him in the bathroom." 

" _You_ locked him in the bathroom?" 

"Yes, Ray." 

The slender Detective walked a few steps away. Then he walked further, into the kitchen. He stared at the two cups on the table for a moment. He walked to the sink, then back to the table. With a gutteral yell he slammed one cup, then the other into the sink. Glass and liquid splattered around him, on to the counter and precious little into the actual sink. 

Ben watched him. Remaining passive, but curious he wondered how much of his kitchen would survive the onslaught. Diefenbaker stood up watching his other packmate warily. 

"You want anything?" Ray asked, as if he had not just destroyed the only two ceramic cups in the place. 

"No, thank you. I'm fine." Ben answered evenly. Okay, fine, might be stretching the truth, he thought as he looked at his chained wrists. 

Using the same tone of voice, Ray said, "It was her, wasn't it?" There was no need to name her. They both knew the "her" in question. 

"Yes." 

Forgetting about the sliced palm he received while breaking into Victoria's apartment in New York, Ray slammed a hard fist into the cabinet above him. He looked in surprise at the hole where his hand had disappeared. Ben winced. Dief growled. 

"Ray, it might be best if you tried to calm down." 

Ray extracted his hand. A thin smear of blood had seeped through the bandage. He squeezed his fingers into a fist and turned around to face Fraser. With his back against the counter he folded his arms in front of him. 

"What'd she want, Fraser?" 

"You must promise to try and remain calm, Ray. I'm not certain this apartment can stand much abuse. Although, I must say that clothes rack has to be the strongest piece of equipment in the building. Do you know I've been trying to break that for, well, it must be at least an hour? Although truthfully, gauging the passage of time is a bit more difficult inside the confines of ..." 

"Fraser." 

"Sorry, Ray." 

"Tell me." He growled. Ben shook his head. 

"I can't say for certain. She intended to kill me, I think. At least at first. But, although she said it, I'm not sure she meant it. She threatened to cripple me at one point but then was quite concerned about my head when I bumped it. She certainly could have killed me. She had a gun and a taser, which she used, the taser, I mean, she never fired the gun. Many of her threats seemed to be aimed at Dief, although that was obviously to maintain my cooperation." 

"Are you gonna tell me this in some kind of order?" 

"Sorry, Ray, perhaps I hit my head harder than I realized." 

"Maybe. We should probably get you checked out at the hospital. But, maybe you're in shock, Benny. Seeing her again, seeing her here. Getting assaulted. You have reason to feel jumbled." 

"I'm over her, Ray." He answered, feeling defensive. 

"Yea, well, she's still her and she still screwed you over big time the last time." Ben had no answer for that. Looking at his hands again, he held them up. 

"Do you think you could...?" 

"Oh, jeez, I'm sorry." Ray reached into his pocket for the universal handcuff key. He sunk it into the lock and released his friend. 

"Thank you kindly." 

Both men allowed some silence while they collected their thoughts. Ben looked at Ray gratefully. Despite the free flowing tension oozing from every part of his body, Ray was still concerned about him first. He knew the detective wanted to wreak more havoc through the apartment but he reigned himself in allowing Ben to gather his senses and emotions. 

"You said she zapped you?" The Mountie looked curious at Ray's statement. "The tasershe zapped you." 

"Oh. Yes. Once." 

"Any aftereffects? You feel funny at all?" 

"No, I don't believe so. It was an... odd... sensation at the time, though." 

"I'm sure it was. Why would she want to kill you, Benny?" 

"I don't think she did." 

"Let's try this from another angle, shall we? Why was she here?" 

"Ah, well, Ray, as I said, she said a great many things. Any of them could be the reason. Or perhaps none of them were." 

Frustrated and angry, Ray pressed on. 

"How about if I take a guess. Victoria was really upset that I came looking for her. She wants me to stop and she figures if she gets to you, I'll get the message." 

Ben had to choose and he didn't like to lie. 

"Yes, Ray, I believe that's accurate." 

Claustrophobia closing in on him, Ray backed away. His thinly controlled rage surged back from the hole he had driven it into. Stomping back to the sink, he stumbled over one of the chairs. Any control he might have had abandoned him. Gripping the table he flipped it over on to its side sending it skittering into the wall. Ray's gun and the salt and pepper shakers skidded into the bedroom area. He picked up the offensive chair, prepared to hurl it through the doorway when Fraser stepped in front of him and put his hands on the opposite side. 

"Please put down my chair, Ray." 

Looking into the earnest face of the Mountie, he stopped for a moment. Ben remained still, holding two chair legs. His skin was more pale than usual. A fresh cut, slightly swollen and bruising decorated his forehead. Looking closer he could see a thin piece of tape still stuck below his hairline. Ray released the chair and stepped back. 

"God, Benny, I'm sorry. I'm a selfish, arrogant bastard. I wanted to get even with her so bad I just never thought about you at all. I should've known she'd come after you. I'm sorry, I should've known." 

Ray was startled by the radiant smile that greeted his apology. 

"Do you mean that? You really understand now?" 

Leftover anger re-surfaced. "Isn't that a little harsh coming from a Mountie?" 

"Oh, of course, I'm sorry, Ray. I don't mean this was your fault. She's a psychopath. She would've come back eventually. I mean going after her. You understand that it wasn't for me that you hired that investigator and lied to me and lied to your family and of course, the attempted murder and..." 

"I remember the details, Benny." 

"Sorry, Ray." 

"And yes, the answer to your question is yes." 

Ben didn't have to express his relief. Ray could see it in his eyes. And in that ridiculously bright smile. 

Automatically, the two men lifted the kitchen table and returned it to its place. Ray looked at the hole in the cabinet. 

"Sorry about that." He said, embarrassed. 

"It's repairable." Ben responded as he fit his two chairs under the table. His smile had faded into his more usual neutrality. He picked up Ray's gun and handed it back to him. Then he set about retrieving the condiment shakers. 

"Yea, we'll go to the hardware store. We'll fix it." 

"That'll be fine, Ray." 

They settled into opposite chairs. Ray stared into his hands, absently running his finger over the stained bandage. Ben watched him warily not certain if he should expect another tirade. For the moment Ray's temper seemed to have flickered to a manageable level. 

"I got your message." Ray said. 

"Message?" 

"You know- that you were sick. Soon as I heard it, I knew she was here. Ya must've known that, huh?" 

"No, I didn't." Ben answered, shaking his head. 

"You didn't?" 

"I had no reason to expect you to get that message, Ray. And Inspector Thatcher wasn't here the last time Victoria, well, the last time she visited." 

"But, you said you were sick. Just like the last time." Ben ran a finger over his eyebrow. 

"Well, I had to say something, Ray. She had a gun. And she more or less suggested that was the excuse to use." 

"You ready to tell me the whole thing now? I gotta tell ya, it doesn't make much sense to me. Her coming back, I mean. She had t'know that it would just up the stakes." 

"I suppose she did." With that, Ben launched into the tale, from Victoria's unexpected arrival to the threats, suspicions and finally locking him in the closet. 

"I was still a bit dazed when she put the tape over my mouth, but I was overcoming the effects of the taser jolt. She closed me inside. It wasn't particularly dark but the small space was...disconcerting. And then her voice came through the door. It was strange, very much like the time we spent in Fortitude Pass. I could hear her voice but I couldn't see her or...feel her...physically. She spoke very softly. I knew it wasn't just the muffling from the closed door. She was speaking softly, almost as if she didn't expect me to hear her." Ben stared, unseeing, through the kitchen window. "She said she was sorry but whatever happened I brought on myself." Ray snorted. "She asked that you stop looking for her. She said she was willing to leave my life completely if we let her alone. All she wants now is the chance to do something else." Ray heard the hesitation in his voice. 

"What else?" 

"She said if you continued to pursue her, she would come back. She said that she was expert at orchestrating revenge and this time, no one would be unscathed." A long pause followed and Ray thought he was finished. Instead, Ben's voice sounded lower, more monotone when he continued. 

"She said she wanted to prove she could get to me at anytime and I would do well to remember that." 

Ray closed his eyes with a shudder. He stood up and turned to look out the kitchen window. "I'm sorry. She never would've come back. I can't believe I started this up again. I'm sorry." 

"No, she would've come back, Ray. You may have pushed up her timetable, but nothing between us had been resolved. What happened to day would certainly have happened some time." Ray turned back. 

"We'll leave her alone, Benny. I already terminated the investigator. We'll leave her alone and she won't come back here and you'll be safe." 

"I'm not sure that's true." 

"Why not? She said..." Ray stopped. "It doesn't matter what she said. She's a liar. She'll say anything." 

"Yes." 

"Then wha' d'ya wanna do?" 

"There's nothing to do, Ray. She may come back or she may not. We are still unresolved. But, I won't live my life pursuing her. And I can't worry about her. She has occupied a large and unhappy part of me for too long. I don't wish to give her that importance any longer." 

"You're going to let her go." 

"I am going to lodge a formal complaint against her for assault, kidnapping, trespassing and any other charges you may feel are appropriate." 

"And then?" 

"And then I am going to file this incident away." Ray sighed as he leaned against the sink. Cold, spilled tea seeped into his shirt. He jerked up, looking annoyed at the mess as he grabbed a rag to mop it up. Still facing the counter as he scooped broken glass on to a sponge, he said, 

"I guess if you can, I can." 

"That would be appreciated, Ray." 

"We'll head down to the station unless you wanna get your head looked at first." 

"No, my head is fine. I'd like to phone Inspector Thatcher and change clothes before we go." 

"No problem, Benny. I'll take Dief outside. He's probably itchin' to burn off some energy." 

"Thank you kindly, Ray."   
    
  

The End. 


End file.
